June

by Melissa Dunphy

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1.
05:05
2.
03:00

about

The poem June by Lauren Rile Smith is in two parts, representing the experience of two consecutive Junes, so the idea of using a looper pedal for this song seemed apt; like canonical lines of music, our calendar loops, but the addition of new layers and developments change the experience of each iteration. The voice in the text is intensely personal, and there’s similarly something very personal about harmonizing with the sound of your own voice using a looper; in our day to day lives, the only time we might hear our own voice layered on top of itself is inside our own heads. Because the song is for solo voice with no accompanying instruments or pre-recorded music, it can be freely sung in any register – each performance is unique to the singer and his or her voice.

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released November 22, 2012

Performed by Jessica Lennick
Text by Lauren Rile Smith
Photo: Nimish Gogri www.flickr.com/gogri/

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Melissa Dunphy Philadelphia

Nationally acclaimed award-winning composer Melissa Dunphy specializes in political and theatrical vocal music, such as the smash hit 2009 choral work the Gonzales Cantata (featured on MSNBC’s Rachel Maddow). Her compositions have been performed around the country by Chanticleer, the Simon Carrington Chamber Singers, St. Louis Chamber Chorus, and the American Opera Theater. ... more

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Track Name: June #1
#1
In the hot room surrounded by fans, touching
my dirty fingertips, sweating inside my shirt.
The house is a slow oven. I go shopping in my own past--
those well-worn handles, broken jars, alone with you.
Can you let me know, the sound that travels back.
And then I was in the hallway with the big empty cart,
its hollow boom that echoed with each roll. A perfect mess,
Why wouldn't you just say hunger? Why wouldn't you?
Track Name: June #2
#2
I take the long way there. It's been a year and I've got
time in a pocket, fingerprint bruises,
deep breaths that make clouds. The running stops.
The rush of days don't care about your heart.
Where were we, with the sky ripening
at sunset, with the branches forming cages overhead?
Where were your words? Now, I am: soundless, happy,
another pin on the trestle, spoke on the wheel.